My Atonement
by Amaurea
Summary: Its after all the kids graduate. Voldemort is in power again, and guess who's his apprentice/assasin? Yup. Draco Malfoy. Plus Ginny finds her way into the plot rather nicely. ^_^ A D/G fic. This will be bloody....>_>
1. Prologue

((A/N: Wow. My second Harry Potter fanfic. As usual, a Draco and Ginny fic. I was struck with the inspiration for this when I was getting dressed for skool this morning. O.o It's in the future when Voldemort is in power. Mwahahahhaha. Our favorite kiddies are young adults now. Like, in their late teens. This should be fun. Started: April 30th, 2003. Dur. Enjoy!))

..::My Atonement::..

.P.r.o.l.o.u.g.e

_It was a dark night. Perfect. The fool had no idea what was going to happen._

_When it _did _occur to him, however, it was far too late. _

_It was a cool summer night. That summer had been rather chilly. Justin Finch-Fletchley walked down a quiet street, lit with a blue hue from the moonlight. It had recently rained, and everything shone damply.   Justin felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and he kept looking over his shoulder. "Bloody town. It's always so quiet this time of night," he muttered, drawing his cloak about himself tighter._

_The clouds were moving swiftly, and they often covered the moon. Justin cursed again and took a turn down an alley. _

_He had spent the day trying to figure out what, or rather, _who_ in bloody hell had caused the death of Cornelius Fudge. The Minister of Magic was found dead, murdered, in his office. His eyes were open and glossy. The expression on his face was that of madness. Blood soaked the plush floor rug, and it was splattered on the desk and walls. The fireplace looked as though it had been recently lit, but had been extinguished.  Justin shuddered as he remembered the scene. Obviously, Voldemort had found him._

_But how had Voldemort gotten to him without being noticed? Surely someone or something else had done the dirty work for him. . There was no way, no bloody way, that someone like a stranger could just approach Cornelius Fudge when there was usually a bodyguard with him…And none of the bodyguards had seen anything._

_Justin had been assigned the tedious task of investigating it. He had spent his past few days inspecting every single place that Fudge had been to within the past twenty-four hours before he died. The office, then to Hogwarts School once. He had gone to the School's library, down the left corridor…traveled around the next few hallways, and then he took a right and then a left to Professor McGonagall's office…she had gone with him to Professor Dumbledore's office…_

_"Then three paces forward, two to the right as he argued with Dumbledore…and eight paces back out the door…" mumbled Justin as he rubbed his forehead with a groan. He had searched everywhere after that, too. To Hogsmeade and in a small pub there, and then back to his home. _

They had everything, every piece of information they could possibly want or need. Right down to how many steps Fudge took in which direction and in what place. They knew everything.  Everything except what happened. Which was a small problem. 

So why couldn't he find it?? He had spent the past six days and three hours searching, searching, looking over and re-looking over clue after clue after clue. Justin was worn and his brain was befuddled. He rubbed his forehead again and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back out of his face. He sighed and continued walking down the alley. 

Then the clouds moved away from the moon, and it poured its blue light down on the wet cobblestone ground. Silhouetted in the light was the figure of a person. Justin stopped, startled. Then he heard soft laughter. He whipped around and looked up at the top of the building next to him.

"I'd have thought you'd have learned not to wander down dark alleyways by now, Finch-Fletchley."

Justin gasped as he looked at the figure, and he saw a familiar face. Steely grey eyes glittered malevolently from the fair-skinned face, and the platinum-blond hair was highlighted in the moonlight. He wore black robes trimmed with silver and green.

Justin narrowed his eyes and then he recognized him.

Draco Malfoy.

But he hadn't seen Malfoy since they left Hogwarts…

The boy smirked, and Justin gaped, backing up a few steps. Then Draco leaped from where he stood, and Justin hear his feet hit the stone as he landed in the black shadow of the building he had been perched upon. Justin gave a cry of surprise and he stumbled back. Then he slowly stepped forth from  the darkness, and the moonlight spilt over him, revealing to Justin his full image.

"What…what do you want with me?" Justin demanded. 

Malfoy smirked again as he spoke, and it was so cruel, so cold, that Justin felt a shiver of fear creep down his spine.

"Simple, Finch-Fletchley," replied Malfoy. And with a movement so swift, Justin could not follow it, the wizard before him drew a sword. Its blade glinted for a split-second in the pale light before it was thrust into Justin's shoulder. The force of the attack drove him back until he was against the alley wall, and the blade sank into the brick.

"Blood."

Justin gasped with pain and shock. His eyes widened, and he felt something hot and wet begin to seep into his sleeve. Malfoy grinned. Then he violently ripped the sword from its victim. Blood drops splattered the street and Justin fell to his knees, clutching at the wound. The sword had gone completely through his shoulder, puncturing out the other side…

His head swooned for a second in pain, and he looked up at Malfoy, grinding his teeth. "You…!" he hissed. He drew his wand, ready to attack Malfoy in a rage.

But the wizard calmly held the sword out and said, "Expelliarmus!" At once, Justin was rendered defenseless. How had he used magic with a sword? Where was his wand? He cried out, and staggered to his feet. His eyes met Malfoy's and he could only think to run.

And he did.

Malfoy closed his eyes in a bored sort of way when his target fled in terror. Then he bolted after Justin.  Before the wizard knew it, Malfoy was in front of him. He yelped and stumbled to a halt. 

Malfoy smirked and struck with the sword once more, cutting across Justin's chest. He staggered back, clutching at his wounds, and Malfoy's face remained expressionless. The boy fell back, staring wide-eyed at his attacker. Malfoy lifted his bloodstained sword once more, and Justin saw engraved on it the Dark Mark, and twisting from the hilt down to the blade was a snake, whose head made the tip of the sword. Justin cried out as Malfoy cut down, feeling the sword tear through his rib cage. Blood splattered, and a gurgling sound was emitted as the liquid began to trickle into his throat and ooze from his mouth. At last, he fell back, dead. A pool of crimson formed as Malfoy stood over the body impassively. 

All was quiet now. The moon shone on the lifeless body on the cobblestone street, and reflected on the dark blood. Malfoy stood, crimson dripping down his face from his attack. He gazed at the body of Justin Finch-Fletchley for a while. Then at last, he calmly withdrew a cloth from his robes and wiped the blade of his sword clean. Then he wiped the blood from his face. 

He clicked the sword back into its sheath. Then he closed his eyes and Apparated.

.


	2. Chapter I

((A/N: I'm having fun with this. ^_^))

..::My Atonement::..

Chapter I

            "Dead?"

            Mr. Weasley nodded.

            "What happened?" demanded Hermione.

            Harry and Hermione were at the Burrow once more; they were spending dinner there. Mr. Weasley had just returned from work with Percy and Mrs. Weasley commanding the kitchen to prepare the meal. 

            Ron, Harry, and Hermione had spent the last few weeks tracking down a particularly slippery Death Eater.  They enjoyed working as Aurors, but their work tended to get very messy very fast. And so this dinner with the Weasley's was a welcome treat.

            But then Mr. Weasley and Percy walked in the door with rather disturbing news. Their former classmate and Ministry friend, Justin Finch-Fletchley, had been found dead in an ally located in a little town near Hogsmeade. 

            Mrs. Weasley looked up abruptly from her kitchen-work, and Hermione gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth. 

            "Someone found him this morning," said Percy. "They called the Ministry…a team went to investigate it."

They took a moment to absorb this, and for a moment, nobody spoke. It was Ron who broke the silence. "Who would want to kill someone like Finch-Fletchley…? What harm did he ever do?"

"He was an Investigator…" said Hermione sadly. Then a thought occurred to her. "Who was investigating the murder of Mr. Fudge…!"

Mr. Weasley nodded again. "No doubt these two murders are connected. Someone obviously does not want to be found."

Harry asked, "Do you think it was by the same person? Do you have pictures with you, Percy?"

The tall Weasley brother shifted. "Well, yes, I do. But I don't think you want to see them…"

"Show me." Hermione turned away.

Percy thought for a moment, but reminded himself that these were no longer the kids that they would look after and send to Hogwarts every year. They were young adults now, and they had careers. They had seen things like this before. Reluctantly, he searched through a folder in his bag, mumbling to himself. At last he handed a few parchments to Harry. Harry took them. 

They showed a few wizards walking about, and some approached to take more pictures. There were a few pictures with just Justin on them. And, as all magic pictures do, it still moved. The blood still appeared to be trickling in between all the little stones of the street. 

Harry turned them over as Ron whistled. 

"Poor fellow…"

Hermione looked back at them from the chair she was seated in. "How was he killed?" she ventured. 

"Well," said Mr. Weasley. "We're not sure…but it appears as though he was killed with a knife or something of the sort."

"The wounds are too long and deep to be a knife…" said Harry. 

"Then what was it?" asked Ron raising an eyebrow skeptically. He was seated on the arm of the couch, next to Harry. 

Hermione shrugged. "It could have been a number of things. Or possibly a knife with a spell on it."

"But why would a Wizard or Witch use a knife instead of a wand?" countered Percy, almost indignantly. "That's ridiculous!" Hermione frowned.

"Well, that's what I get from it," she said. "Maybe it wasn't magic folk who killed him. Perhaps it was a Muggle."

"But what Muggle would want to kill Finch-Fletchley?" asked George. 

They could not find an answer, but Harry had an idea what their next assignment would be. Mrs. Weasley became very upset after that. 

"Oh, dear me, dear me," she cried as she waved her wand, preparing the dishes for setting the table. "You can't even have a peaceful dinner these days without word of the doings of-of You-Know-Who!" She set the plates, and Hermione walked over to help with a solemn sigh. 

Everyone was sitting in silence when Ginny walked down the stairs. 

She had recently graduated from Hogwarts a few months ago. She was looking for work, but hadn't found anything too appealing yet. Fred and George had offered her a job in their shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but she decided she'd better pass on that one.  Halfway down the steps, she stopped, sensing the uneasy atmosphere. Everyone paused to look at her.

She blinked. "Jeez, who died?" she asked with a small laugh. She walked down the rest of the stairs.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," said George. Ginny stopped again, this time with a shocked expression. 

"What?"

Ron nodded. "You know that Hufflepuff kid that we talked to sometimes? They found him dead in an alleyway." Ginny looked at each of them, then shook her head with a weary sigh. She didn't ask about anything else. She didn't want to know what happened.

Funny how something so tragic becomes routine. Almost every day there was a death of someone caused by Voldemort. Just last week, one of the Gryffindor's of Ginny's year had been killed in an attack in London. Ginny hadn't known her that well, but still…. Now she walked over and began to help Hermione and Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen.

"Almost ready," said Mrs. Weasley. "Boys, can you go outside and set up the tables and chairs." Fred and George grinned wildly at one another, knowing how fun levitating chairs and tables could be. They all ran outside.

After a while, they all sat down in the backyard and had dinner. They went about talking and joking and laughing as they usually would. It was odd, though; to have a fun family meal after learning that someone you once knew had been murdered. 

Afterwards, the girls brought all the dishes back and cleaned them while Fred, George, Percy, Ron, and Harry put the chairs and tables away. Then they all sat in the backyard, enjoying a cool evening. The others looked on as Fred and George attempted a one-on-one game of Quidditch. (Not an easy thing to do.) Harry watched as Ron and Hermione sat together, and he saw that look they got in each other's eyes when they were together in quiet times like this. Hermione laughed as Ron whispered something jokingly in her ear, and she pushed him slightly, but the fingers of their free hands remained laced together. 

Harry looked away, and towards the sunset. 

Ginny noticed him sitting off by himself and sighed. He did that a lot. He was so quiet now… Often he would just look the other way when they were all hanging out, trying to enjoy themselves, and his eyes would become distant. He would remain like that, silently, until someone or something broke him from his thoughts.

Ginny stood from where she sat and went to sit next to him. "Harry." He turned his head to look at her, now back in reality. 

"Hello, Ginny," he said, and they looked to the sunset. 

"How have you been?" Ginny asked gingerly. Harry sighed.

"I'm okay. What about you? How's the job-hunting going?" he asked. Ginny smiled. 

"Well," she replied, "It's _going_. I just don't know where to."

Harry smiled slightly and nodded. For a moment, they said nothing. Ginny watched him carefully, however, as his eyes left them again. She caught sight of his fingers gently tracing a long scar on his left arm and wrist. ((A/N: I think I had something like that in my other HP fanfic…oh well.)) 

"Harry," she said again, looking up at his face. Again, his head turned toward her, shaken from its dream.

"Hmm?"

Ginny shook her head. "You really should consider settling down, Harry. All you do now is worry."

"How could I not?" he asked. "I'm not interested in finding someone, now…. I couldn't."

"Why?"

"Because I can't stand to possibly loose someone."

At this, Ginny stopped with a nod. She knew this was a good point, and she had half-expected Harry to make it. With Voldemort in power, and with Harry, Ron, and Hermione hunting Dark Wizards, it was difficult to let yourself calm down in life. 

She knew Harry was afraid of loosing someone. Cho had been killed the previous winter, and though she had been just a school-days crush, it still took its toll on Harry.

"Harry, if love finds you, don't be too afraid of loosing it to let it go." Ginny walked back with the others, and Harry watched her go. Then he looked back to the sunset, thinking of what she had said. 

The next day Harry, Ron, and Hermione found themselves at the Ministry building. They were called there by another Auror. He was known simply as "Tristo" which apparently meant something along the lines of "undefeated" in some ancient Vampire language. Harry and Ron had never really cared enough to look into it; though they were sure Hermione could give them the history behind the name as well as the Auror himself. Tristo was tall, and frankly quiet beautiful. He had long dark hair, all cut one length. His eyes were icy blue, and there was a scar on his right cheek. The left side of his face was covered with a silver mask. He had seen many battles, and worked closely with Mad-Eye Moody back in Voldemort's First Reign.

"As you know, Justin Marcus Finch-Fletchley was killed the other night," said the man in his silky voice. ((A/N: I just made up the Marcus thing. It was the first thing that popped into my head for his middle name…)) "I called you three here because I thought Professor Albus Dumbledore would like details…" Tristo handed Hermione a file-folder, packed with papers, and no doubt photographs. Paper-clipped to the folder itself was an I.D. picture of Justin, from not too long before the incident. Hermione handed it to Ron.

"I'm sure you three can handle it…" said Tristo. They all nodded. Tristo began organizing papers on his desk. "Keep sharp. You should have another case soon." 

"Thank you, sir," said Harry.

"You three may go," Tristo dismissed them.  He continued collection up the papers on his desk. Harry, Ron, and Hermione took their leave of him. 

Ron shuddered as they closed the door of Tristo's office.  "Bloody hell, he creeps me out." He rubbed his face. 

"I must admit there is a certain aura about him…" said Hermione. "But he is one of the most respected Aurors in the world…"

"Sure, but any one who worked with Mad-Eye _has_ to be a bit off his rocker," Ron replied. "He just always so….calm…it just creeps me out, that's all."

Harry fumbled with the folder in his hand. "I know what you mean." He sighed. "Anyway. Let's pay old Dumbledore a visit, shall we?" He smiled. 

Draco Malfoy appeared. The cave was dimly lit, as usual. It was cold here. It always was. Draco's pale figure looked ghostly in the blue hue of the lair. It was a huge cavern, reaching up a hundred feet above his head, with a small pool and many tunnels branching off from it.  

"Ah, Draco," hissed a silky voice. "I trust your mission went as planned?"

Draco walked towards the large plateau that was situated in the center of the cavern near the small pool. "Yes, my Lord. Finch-Fletchley won't be bothering us any longer."

The tall figure seated on the plateau grinned. Voldemort stood up. "Very good. You have done well." Draco gave a small but respectful bow. 

"Thank you, my Lord."

"My Lord…my Lord…" said another voice. It trembled from the small, hunkering form of a beggar.  Voldemort's icy eyes turned to Wormtail. 

"What now?"

"My-my Lord…would-would we be…be…"

"_Spit it out, worm_…" hissed Draco. 

The crawling Wormtail whimpered and dropped his head to rest on his hands, bowing. He trembled greatly, in terror before his master and his master's apprentice. "W-would we be able to-to c-catch Potter, my Lord? Using the young m-master's latest k-kill?' he stammered. At this Voldemort and Draco paused. They had thought of this, of course. But they had not voiced it.

"We could always _use_ it, fool," said Voldemort. Then he studied Wormtail. "You're sniveling more than usual, _Peter_…" Wormtail whimpered and kept his head down. Voldemort took a step closer. Draco watched, cold grey eyes following his master. The Dark Lord's footsteps didn't make a sound, in the otherwise echoing cavern. Draco's footsteps were likewise soft, but Wormtail possessed not the grace of his advisers, and every movement scratched and shuffled into the air, the sound echoing off the cold stone walls. It irritated Draco, and he frowned upon the creature at his master's feet.

Voldemort looked very closely as he approached the beggar slowly, malevolently.  Peter Pettigrew shook with fear. Voldemort's eyes narrowed curiously. 

"Did you, by any chance, get rid of the body as I instructed?" hissed the Dark Lord. Draco's own eyes narrowed. Wormtail looked terrified now. Earlier, Voldemort had told him to dispose of the mangled body of a Quidditch player who had stumbled upon their hideout. Voldemort extracted what information he needed from the Quidditch star, and then killed him. 

"W-well, you see my Lord…" started Wormtail.

"_Did_ you, _Wormtail_?" demanded Voldemort, anger flashing in his terrible eyes.

"W-well…no…no my Lord, but-"

"_WHAT? What happened??" _Voldemort yelled, his snake-like face twisting into an infuriated expression. Draco said nothing, but looked upon Wormtail with disapproval. The stupid, clumsy fool. Always messing up….

Wormtail began to plead with his Lord. "Please, please Great One, I-I-I can ex-explain…!" He clasped his hands together as Voldemort slowly reached for his wand. A soft smirk spread on Draco's face. 

"NO! No p-please my Lord!" cried Wormtail, falling once more to his knees. "I-I tried, Lord, I did! I-I threw the body in the river!"

"WHAT?" roared Voldemort.

"B-but there were M-Muggles coming, a-and I didn't know what to do! Please, Great One! Have mercy!" sobbed the beggar. He began to paw at his master's feet and robes desperately, with his clammy hands. 

"SO YOU SHOULD HAVE KILLED THEM!" 

"B-but Sir! I-I just froze! There was no time to do a spell! Please, Master." Draco eyed the smoky, silvery hand that Voldemort have created for Wormtail after he had cut his own off to raise his Lord. It seemed powerless now. Voldemort stood over Wormtail, wand in hand, looking down at him. The creature sobbed and pleaded. The Dark Lord shook his head. 

"Draco," he said, not taking his eyes of the crying Wormtail. Draco looked up.

"Yes my Lord?"

"Your next target, Draco," said Voldemort, "is Albus Dumbledore."

Wormtail continued to cry and clutched at Voldemort's robes.

((A/n: Well that took me long enough. _ It's May 22. Whee. This is fun. Not that great of a chapter, but the next one should be better. ^.^  Man, I was trying to type "Wormtail", but I kept putting "Wormtongue", like in The Lord of the Rings. O.o LoL. I'll type chapter two ASAP. :p ))


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